Chicago Reverse
by xNocturnalx
Summary: What if Roxie was the star of the vaudeville ... and Velma was the wannabe? CHAPTER SIX (FINALLY) UP! Did you know Velma kept a diary, too?
1. Dreams of Fame

Chicago Reverse  
_What if Roxie was the star of the vaudeville ... and Velma was the wannabe?_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Chicago or any of the characters in it. I'm not making any money off it ... and all that jazz._

**Dreams of Fame ****  
**

Velma Kelly stood by a pillar in the smoky club. Her sister Veronica was chatting animatedly with Charlie, Velma's husband, but she didn't see them. All Velma could see was the skinny blonde bombshell belting out a jazz number up on stage. Ever since she had started coming to The Onyx, in hopes of landing an audition, she had been in awe of the Roxie Hart. How glamourous! How sexy! Roxie had it all. However, Velma wouldn't let anyone know she thought this, as Velma Kelly always kept her composure, never going to pieces about anything ... not even her long-time desire to have her name in all the papers. Velma sighed inwardly as Roxie sang, imagining herself on that stage ... people gazing up at her ... people wanting her autograph ...

"Hey, Vel, move your ass, we're outta here!"

Velma shook herself mentally and looked over at Veronica, impatiently tapping her foot and gesturing towards the door. Velma rolled her eyes and followed her sister and husband. She resisted the temptation to look back at Roxie and instead walked coolly out of the Onyx, into the cold night air.

_As she reached the last part of her dance routine, Roxie Hart froze. Smiling smugly, she left the stage and walked backstage to collect her things. She changed out of her costume, pinned back some flyaway hairs, and left the Onyx. It had been a good show, that night. Roxie lived for the stage and the audience. It had been a dream come true when she became a regular at the Onyx, a dream she'd had since she came to Chicago. But Roxie wanted more than the act she had now. She wanted to travel and perform and be known throughout the whole world ... Roxie became lost in her fantasy, picturing herself singing, dancing on all the stages of the world ..._

_"Hey!" called a smooth male voice. "Roxie Hart, right?"_

_"That depends on who's askin'," Roxie replied, turning around, smiling._

_"Fred Casely," said the man, grinning. He extended a hand, which Roxie shook primly._

_"And what does Fred Casely want with me?" asked Roxie._

_"Fred Casely wants to make Roxie Hart a household name all over the world," said Fred. "I saw your act. What are you doing at the Onyx? You could be making it big everywhere!"_

_Roxie smiled coyly. "You really think so?"_

_"I know so. I've got some connections. There's a guy down at another club who can give you an audition. Just say the word and I'll call him."_

_Roxie knew immediately what the answer would be. "You got it, Mr. Casely."_

_"Just Fred, please." He paused, then asked, "Look, do you want to go out for a meal or something? So we can talk about this some more?"_

_"I'd like that."_

_Fred hailed a taxi and Roxie followed him in, still hardly believing the offer Fred had made._ This,_ she thought,_ is my lucky night!

Velma looked out of the window as Charlie pulled up at the block of apartments where they lived. Veronica also lived there, but on a different floor. She'd managed to get Roxie's act out of her head and opened the door as soon as the car stopped. Sometimes Charlie wanted to be a gentleman and open the door for her, but that was something Velma detested. She prided herself on her independence and did everything for herself. That was why she kept her maiden name when she married. But the bottom line was Velma Kelly relied on nobody.

She walked quickly into the building to get out of the cold and waited for Charlie and Veronica, who were lagging behind. Velma wasn't surprised as Veronica had just broken up with her latest boyfriend (the third one this month) and, as usual, Charlie was comforting her. When they eventually entered the lobby, Velma immediately turned on her heel and continued up the four flights of stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door, undressed and went to have a shower. As she walked out of the bathroom, she could hear Charlie saying good night to Veronica, and Veronica making her way up more stairs.

"Good show tonight," Velma said when Charlie closed the door.

"What?" he replied distractedly.

"Never mind."

He had been like that lately, a bit more distant than usual. Velma put it down to stress at work. Charlie worked as a furniture salesman, and he often complained about how one of the guys on his shift, Casely, was forever calling in sick. Velma was between jobs at the moment; she had been fired from her last one as a waitress after yelling at a customer who had grabbed her arse, so money was a bit tight nowadays. _But that would change_, thought Velma, _when I have my own act and I'm famous ..._ She climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep, thinking thoughts of fame and glamour.

_Roxie laughed again as Fred cracked another joke. He had taken her out to a classy restaurant and ordered her an expensive meal and now they were talking amiably and drinking booze. Strangely, Fred hadn't talked much about the guy he knew; instead, he wanted to know all about Roxie. She didn't mind much, and before she knew it, they were joking around, talking as if they'd known each other for years. At first, Roxie tried to remind herself she was married, but after about thirty seconds, she thought, what the hell, and began flirting. Fred was charming, witty, and knew all the right people._

_After he paid the bill, Fred hailed another taxi and took Roxie home. They climbed the stairs together until Roxie pulled a key out of her bag and turned to Fred._

_"So, I guess this is good night, then," said Fred. He pecked Roxie on the cheek. "So, good night."_

_"Well, that's not much of a goodbye kiss," Roxie replied. She pulled Fred towards her and kissed him seductively._

_"Don't you have a husband?" Fred asked._

_"What husband?" Roxie said playfully. "I don't have a husband ..."_ At least, not until midnight ...

_She opened the door and, still kissing Fred, led him to the bedroom ..._


	2. Fits of Passion

Chicago Reverse

_Disclaimer: Guess what? I didn't create Chicago ... but I think you know that already ... I used a lot of dialogue from the film in the last Roxie section of the chapter ... all other dialogue belongs to me, though._

**Fits of Passion**

A few weeks after seeing Roxie Hart's act and making herself gloriously miserable by envisioning herself on stage, Velma decided to get off her butt and do something about it. Not telling Charlie or Veronica, Velma would slip out and fix herself auditions at every, and any, club she could find. But no matter where she went, Velma got the same response every time: no. But it would take nothing short of death to stop her from finding a club that would take her.

One night, Velma was pulling on a coat getting ready to go to another audition. She was nearly out the door when Charlie appeared.

"Hey, Vel! Where are ya goin'?" Charlie asked.

"Out," Velma replied.

"Out where?" Charlie probed.

"I'll be back in an hour," Velma said, before making a hurried exit, leaving Charlie to stare after her as she hastened towards the stairs.

Once she was outside, Velma hailed a taxi. She told the driver the name of the club, and began staring out the window as the taxi began to move. She absently adjusted her short black skirt and lit a cigarette, waiting to arrive at the club. She didn't have to wait long; hardly fifteen minutes had passed before the taxi was pulling up outside the club. Velma looked at it and groaned inwardly. The club looked even seedier than the restaurant she had been fired from recently. Nevertheless, she pasted on a smile and paid the driver.

"Keep the change," Velma said distractedly as she steeled herself for the audition, running over her act in her head.

The taxi drove away, and Velma stepped into the club.

_Roxie waited outside the Onyx, waiting for Fred to pick her up. This had become routine now; Roxie would finish her act, Fred would pick her up and take her to dinner, and more often than not, they ended up back at Roxie's apartment in bed. Tonight, Fred was late. Roxie pulled her coat around her petite figure more tightly, reassuring herself that Fred was probably just fixing up some audition details with 'that guy', whom Roxie still hadn't met. Night after night, Fred had assured her that she would be meeting him 'shortly', but nearly a month later, there was no sign of any audition. Roxie had tried to dismiss this thought, but more recently, it had been nagging her whenever the subject of Fred came to mind._

_"Hey, sugar, sorry I'm late," said Fred, as he finally appeared._

_"It's okay," Roxie said, forcing a smile. She decided to ask about 'the guy' later that night._

"Goddammit!" Velma swore loudly, stomping up the four flights of stairs. The audition had not gone well. The people at the club had cut her off early, and _in true Velma style_, she thought grimly, she had given them more than a piece of her mind before storming out and cursing loudly. Now she was home early. She huffily unlocked the door, hung her coat up, and, trying to regain her composure, walked more sedately into the bedroom. Little did she know what she would find there ...

Velma's anger fired up again at the sight that met her eyes as she entered the room. _How could they?_ she thought, angrily. _HOW COULD THEY?!_ Charlie and Veronica were both lying naked on the bed, neither noticing Velma seething at the other end of the room.

When she looked back on it, Velma could barely remember anything, she had been so enraged. Without thinking, she grabbed Charlie's pistol from the underwear drawer, tore the sheets off the bed and began yelling furiously at her petrified husband and sister.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" she screamed. "YOU THINK YOU CAN MESS AROUND BEHIND MY BACK?! WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG!"

In a fit of rage, she pulled the trigger, shooting Charlie in the head. Again, she pulled the trigger, causing more blood to gush from her husband's fatal wounds. She turned to her terrified sister, her hand shaking in fury.

"No, Vel," whimpered Veronica. "No! I'm your sister! You wouldn't ..."

"You know perfectly well I would, you whore!" Velma whispered dangerously.

Velma closed her eyes, and shot twice. When she opened them, she saw Veronica's bloody body lying back across the pillow – she was dead. It was then that conscious thought entered Velma's head, and she saw, as if for the first time, the corpses of her murdered victims.

"Oh, holy shit," Velma murmured as the full implication of what she had done hit her. "Shit!"

She dropped the pistol and ran out the door, hoping she would be fast enough to give herself an alibi. As she stumbled into a classy restaurant, she waited for guilt to set in, but, to her surprise, none came. _They had it coming_, Velma thought, smugly.

_Roxie and Fred were just about to leave the restaurant when the harried young woman rushed in. Roxie glanced at her, clutching her side and gasping as if she had come in a hurry, before shrugging it off and following Fred outside._

_Later, at her apartment, as Fred dressed himself, Roxie brought up the topic that had been on her mind for most of the evening._

_"Hey, Fred, I don't want you to feel like I'm nagging you or anything, but don't you think it's about time I met that guy down at the club? I mean, it's been a month since you told him about me."_

_Fred looked at Roxie with a strange expression on his face, almost like exasperation, before looking at her and saying, "It's getting late."_

_Determined to keep him on the subject, Roxie went on._

_"Once I get a name for myself around town, you know, not just at the Onyx, but around Illinois, maybe we could open up a club of our own. You could run it," she said, playfully following Fred around, as he looked for his tie._

_"Get off," Fred muttered, shoving Roxie aside._

_"Hey, what's the idea?" Roxie asked, put out._

_"Wise up, kiddo, you ain't never gonna have an act anywhere but the Onyx," said Fred irritably._

_"Says who?" Roxie retorted._

_"Face it Roxie," Fred said, doing his tie. "You're a two-bit talent with skinny legs. And I'm just a furniture salesman."_

_Roxie had never heard Fred talk like this before, and found herself dreading what he would say next._

_"Yeah, but you got connections!" she pressed him. "You know, that guy–"_

_"There is no guy," Fred cut in. "You were hot stuff! I would have said anything to get a piece of that!" he continued, grabbing Roxie's arse. "We've had some laughs, let's leave it at that."_

_"And ... now?" Roxie, stuttered, shocked. She wandered over to Fred, smiled and said seductively, "Freddie, you can't do this to me!"_

_For Fred, that was the final straw. He pushed Roxie roughly against the wall and she collapsed, too shaken for words. She didn't really hear what he was saying. All she could think about was how he used her. _That bastard! _Roxie thought bitterly. _All he wanted ..._ Roxie had heard about other famous people being used and dumped by people who only wanted one thing, but she couldn't believe it was happening to her. The bitterness inside her swelled into uncontrollable anger, as she watched Fred calmly grab his hat and begin to leave._

_"You're a liar, Fred!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes. "You lied to me!"_

_"That's life, sweetheart, that's life," Fred said casually._

_Roxie cracked. She grabbed her husband's pistol and turned to Fred._

_"You son of a bitch!" she cried, and, almost without knowing what she was doing, pulled the trigger three times and watched as Fred's lifeless body fell to the floor._

_"You're a son of a bitch!"_


	3. Consequences of Murder

Chicago Reverse

_Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago or its characters or any other aspect of it in any way, shape or form (including more Roxie dialogue) ... I just wish I did._

**Consequences of Murder**

After splurging on a ridiculously expensive meal (and several bottles of booze), Velma staggered out of the restaurant, intending to return home, pretend to be alarmed by the sight of her dead husband and sister and raise the alarm. She drunkenly hailed a taxi and sat quietly, smug smile still in place, until the taxi pulled up at the apartment block. Velma was totally unprepared for the sight that met her.

Police had surrounded the building and were talking to old Mrs. Borusewicz, Velma's neighbour. Velma's eyes widened in shock as she took in what Mrs. Borusewicz was saying to the police officer.

"I heard shots fired and loud cursing next door. I went outside to see what was going on when Ms. Kelly ran out of the room and down the stairs. She didn't see me, she was obviously shaken ..."

Velma started walking angrily over to the masses of police officers muttering curses under her breath.

"Hey!" yelled the taxi driver. "Hey, miss!"

Velma exasperatedly chucked a few bills at him, which he grabbed quickly before speeding away. Velma continues to storm over to the throng. Upon seeing her, Mrs. Borusewicz pointed at Velma and said "That's her! The one rushing out!"

Resisting the urge to murder her neighbour as well, Velma tried to arrange her face into a concerned look.

"What's going on, officer?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"You're being arrested for murder, Ms. Kelly," the officer said. "THAT'S what's going on."

_Roxie sat nervously on the bed, anxiously awaiting the return of her husband, Amos. _Stupid sap_, she thought smugly._ He'll believe anything I tell him. _Roxie enjoyed that power she had over her husband, how a simple pout and eyelash flutter had him eating out of her hand. She had formulated a plan; when Amos came home, she would appear distraught and tell him how she had woken up to find a burglar climbing through the window, and, scared out of her wits (cue baby-faced pout), she had shot him. She would then somehow convince him to take the blame, because 'he was sure to get off'. _Yeah right,_ thought Roxie. _Better him than me.

_Sure enough, Amos, after getting over the initial horror of finding a corpse in the bedroom, completely swallowed Roxie's story and agreed to 'confess' to the police. And now, here they were, interrogating Amos, who, in spite of himself, was being pretty convincing, thought Roxie grudgingly. As she half-listened to Amos's carefully rehearsed spiel, she let her mind wander. Maybe she would sing about this later ... until she snapped out of her fantasy (flowing pink dress, sitting on the piano, the works ...) after hearing Amos say those fateful words ..._

"_Fred Casely?" Amos said, disbelievingly. "How could he be a burglar? My wife knows him, he sold us out furniture ..." Roxie could almost see the cogs turning slowly in her husband's head. "He gave us ten percent off ..." _No shit, Sherlock_, Roxie thought, before realising how much trouble she would be in if Amos didn't shut up._

"_You big blabbermouth!" she heard herself yelling. "You promised you'd stick!"_

"_What are you talking about?" Amos yelled louder. "You've been stringing me Roxanne!"_

"_Goddammit!" Roxie yelled. "You are a disloyal husband!"_

_She suddenly realized what had happened and turned to the intimidating man in front of her, frantically trying to think up a story._

"_Look, it's true," she said, desperately. "I shot him. But it was self-defense; he was trying to burgle me."_

"_From what I hear, he's been burgling you three times a week for the past month," retorted the man. "Your story doesn't wash, Mrs. Hart."_

_Roxie didn't hear the rest, she was inwardly kicking herself for her outburst. But the worst was still to come. The man produced photographs of a woman and five children ... Fred's family._

"_What?" Roxie whimpered, disbelievingly. "That bastard ... that BASTARD!" She turned to the man and incensed, yelled "Yeah, I killed him, and I would kill him again!"_

"I'm sorry, officer, what was that?" Velma asked, desperately trying to keep her cool.

"Murder, Ms. Kelly, murder."

Velma decided to keep up the act. "Whose murder? I've been out to dinner."

The police officer bemusedly raised one eyebrow and spoke slowly.

"Alone? Really? Well your husband and sister are dead ... what do you think happened?"

"Charlie? Veronica?" Velma asked, pretending to be shocked. "Dead? No, it can't be! Why would anyone kill Charlie and Veronica?"

"YOU killed them, Ms. Kelly, drop the act," sighed the police officer. "Your alibi is invalid. Your neighbour saw you rushing out just after the crime was committed. You wouldn't have had time to reach the restaurant."

Velma clenched her jaw. "I'm telling you, I'm innocent!" she said. "Why won't you believe me?"

The police officer ignored her and ushered her towards the van. "Tell that to a jury, Ms. Kelly," he said. "This is a hanging case."

Frozen with fear, Velma sat in the van, her worst nightmare true. She refused to cry, but inside, she had never been so shaken. Hanging case ... the words that had haunted her since she realized the extent of her crime ...

_Roxie found herself escorted outside, the streets filled with photographers and reporters, all wanting the latest scoop on Roxie Hart, newly minted jazz killer. But it was all a blur for Roxie. She couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be Amos ... well, her picture, but Amos in the van. She blinked and looked around wildly as they locked the door on the van. She saw flashes of cameras, Amos's distraught face, and the cold expression of ADA Harrison._

"_Not so tough anymore, huh?"_

_Crushed, all she could do was, sit and stare blankly out, much to the frustration of the photographers. All she could make out was "This is a hanging case."_

"_Wait," she called. "What do you mean, hanging?"_

_But she knew. The worst possible outcome was now a definite possibility. And, for the first time in as long as she could remember, Roxie Hart was scared._


	4. Reasons for Homicide

Chicago Reverse

_Disclaimer: In my own little world inside my head, I occasionally own Chicago. Unfortunately, in the real world, I don't. Bummer._

_Author's note: Guys, PLEASE review this! I'm not going to continue until I get some reviews. Please??_

**Reasons for Homicide**

Velma sat glumly on the cold bench, her shapeless grey dress scratching her. Despite her mood, she held her head up in a self-satisfied way, again pasting on her trademark smug smile. She'd never let anyone intimidate her before, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now. She looked around curiously at the rest of the women there, wondering who they killed and why. _At least I'll have a good story_, thought Velma. _I killed my husband and sister in a fit of rage ... _She raised her chin higher and more defiantly, daring the others to ask who she was.

She looked at the woman on her right. The woman looked back at her, wearing the same self-assured expression. She casually flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder, raised her eyebrows at Velma then drew a pack of matches out of her pocket and began striking them one by one. She looked back at Velma, who was still watching her.

"So," the woman asked lazily. "Who'dja kill?"

"Husband and sister," Velma replied, adopting the woman's casual expression. "Found 'em in bed together."

"Really? Me, I killed my boyfriend," the woman replied.

"Why?"

"He was poppin' gum. Pissed me off no end."

Velma blanched inwardly. She made a mental note never to get on this woman's wrong side.

"What's ya name?" the woman asked.

"Velma."

"Liz."

Liz gave Velma a half-smile before resuming lighting matches. Then she began to speak again, not looking at Velma.

"You know, you're not the only new one today," she said. "Another one came in just after you. I saw the van. Skinny blonde girl. She's probably still getting checked out. Two murderesses in one night ... the press'll have a field day."

Velma nodded, only half-listening. She wondered vaguely what the other girl was like – who she was, who she killed and why ... Still lost in her thoughts and oblivious to Liz's continued talk she watched the door. A few minutes later it opened, and in walked a woman escorted by a police officer. She was dressed in the same grey dress, but she looked scared instead of defiant. Velma looked at her briefly, and then did a double take.

It was Roxie Hart.

_Roxie nervously walked into the room. About fifteen others women were sitting on the benches, watching her. A few of them began whispering to their neighbours. Roxie felt slightly mollified, at least people recognised her. _They'll all want to know why 'the' Roxie Hart committed murder_, thought Roxie. But as she looked closer at the expressions on their faces all she could see were defiant looks and smug smiles ... there seemed to be only one woman with a nervous expression in the whole room; a young girl with long blonde hair, sitting alone, clutching a crucifix. Taking this in, Roxie tried to adjust her expression to match the rebellious looks worn by the rest of the murderesses._

_As the police officer released her arm, Roxie looked for a seat, but the only spare spot was next to the nervous-looking woman. As she drew closer, Roxie noticed she was mumbling something indistinguishable under her breath, but she simply dismissed it and tried to get comfortable on the hard bench._

_She was still squirming around when the door opened and a woman walked in. She was tall with short black hair and had the sort of gaze that reaches beyond one's eyes. Roxie cowered inwardly, slightly intimidated by the newcomer._

"_On your feet," ordered the warden._

"_Welcome ladies," said the woman. "I'm Mama, the matron. You might think I'm here to make your life a living hell, but that's just not true. I'd like to be your friend if you let me. So if there's anything that upsets you or makes you unhappy in any way," she paused for a second. "Don't shoot your fat ass mouth off at me 'cause I don't give a shit. Now move out."_

_Roxie, a little stunned made to move out, but just as she was about to follow the others out the door, Mama blocked her way and ushered her over to join another woman, one with an especially defiant expression._

"_You must be Hart and Kelly," she said._

"_Yes ma'am," murmured Roxie._

"_Oh, call me Mama," Mama said. "I'm here to take care of you both."_

_The other woman rolled her eyes before Mama ushered them through the door._

Velma walked moodily out the door, followed by Roxie and Mama. Up close, Roxie didn't seem as confident as she did on stage. _Look at her_, thought Velma, disgusted. _Matron fawning over her, can't do anything for herself._

"Murderesses' Row, we call it," Velma heard Mama say.

"Oh," Roxie replied in the same low murmur. "Is that nicer?"

"Jesus," muttered Velma.

They walked past a row of cells together, Mama occasionally accepting money from a woman and giving her cigarettes or booze in exchange. Roxie was still cowering. _Some star_, Velma thought, irritably. They passed Liz's cell (she paid Mama for a pack of matches), and four other women before reaching two empty cells. The warden shoved Velma into the first and Mama ushered Roxie into the second. Velma sat down on the cheap bed, listening to Roxie complain to Mama, and eventually and clang of a rod against the bars.

"Lights out, ladies."

The lights of the prison dimmed and the doors of the cells were clamped down. Velma stayed still, not sleepy at all. She heard everything in almost unbearable distinction ... Roxie whimpering, taps dripping, footfalls up ahead, tapping fingernails, Liz striking more matches ... eventually she fell, tossing and turning, into a troubled sleep.

_Walking to breakfast the next day, Roxie attempted to regain some of her composure, determined to turn the circumstances into a positive. She sat down in between two of the women from her row of cells – a thin redhead and the nervous one she had seen the day before. The other four sat opposite them. They had begun eating when the redhead next to Roxie began talking._

"_Roxie Hart, right?" she said to Roxie, who nodded, pleased. "And you are?"_

_The other new woman looked at her with a smug expression. "Velma."_

"_Annie," the redhead said. "What's your story?"_

_By the end of breakfast they had all swapped stories. There was Liz, who shot her boyfriend for popping gum, Annie, who had poisoned her guy for being married, June, who stabbed her husband after he accused her of having an affair, Mona, who strangled her boyfriend for cheating on her and the other new girl, Velma, who shot her husband and sister for sleeping together. The nervous girl had said nothing._

"_She's a Hunyak," June had said. "Can't speak no English."_

"_Except for 'not guilty'," corrected Mona._

_Later when they were all going back to their cells, Roxie stopped the Hunyak._

"_Did you do it?" she asked._

_The Hunyak looked confused for a moment before shaking her head desperately._

"_Uh-uh! Not guilty!"_

_Roxie shrugged and went back to her cell. She thought of the others on the row and whether they were justified. All of them reckoned their victims had it coming ... _Fred did_, thought Roxie, drifting off to sleep._ He definitely had it coming ...


	5. Act of Desperation

Chicago Reverse

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I own Chicago in no way shape or form unless I get high on sugar and go into an alternate universe._

_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews guys. This chapter is where things start getting different ..._

**Act of Desperation**

Velma irritably flicked a strand of dark hair out of her face and resumed ironing. She had always hated household chores, but at least was faring better than Roxie. Far from being Velma's idol, Roxie was now a lazy, incompetent bitch in Velma's eyes ? and she wasn't bothering keeping that opinion to herself. After burning two dresses in as many days, Roxie had coerced the Hunyak into doing her laundry for her, something that did not sit very well with Velma. Admittedly, she did wish she had gotten to the Hunyak first, but she managed to turn it into an opportunity to flaunt her extreme independence. God help anyone who offered to do something for Velma, but God also help anyone who asked her for a favour. You look after you, I'll look after me, had become Velma's mantra.

After finishing her laundry, Velma set off to grudgingly do her chores. Pushing a trolley full of fresh towels down the corridor she cursed someone, she wasn't sure who but someone for getting her into this situation. Her first thought was herself, but she brushed it away maybe Veronica and Charlie? No ? it was too painful to think about them. Velma grimaced as she continued blaming everyone she could think of for the fact that she was changing towels at the Cook County Jail, eventually settling on Roxie Hart. Only Velma understood the logic behind it, but that didn't matter ? at least, not to Velma.

She had just entered her first bathroom when she heard voices coming from the next room.

"... you know what Mama's gonna do for you? Mama is gonna put you back on the vaudeville circuit," said Mama's voice.

"Really?" replied Roxie

Velma decided this was a conversation worth listening to and pressed her ear against the wall in an attempt to hear better.

"But remember," Mama said. "All your calls are gonna go through me."

"How much is that going to cost me?" came Roxie's soft voice.

"Well, that depends but come one Rox, you know what I feel about you, you're like family to me!"

"Really?"

Velma rolled her eyes. If there was ever an award for sucking up, Roxie would win it hands down.

"I'll do 'em for fifty bucks ... each."

Velma sniggered as Roxie began whining. _The kid could never make it in the real world_, thought Velma, before realising that changing towels should have taken about half the time she had spent in the bathroom. She hurriedly switched them and rushed out of the room, just in time to see Roxie walking primly down the corridor. The sight was enough to start Velma off into another 'curse Roxie' session. Unknown to her, Mama was watching.

"You know, you're something, kid."

_Roxie left Mama staring after her as she left and walked off back to join the others. She passed Velma, who for some mysterious reason, seemed to hate her. Wisely, Roxie had decided to leave that particular issue alone; she had seen too many crack under an icy glare Velma-style._

_Seeing Mama again had brought Roxie both good and bad news. The good news was that (with a few well-placed phone calls) Mama was sure she could get Roxie a top lawyer and back on stage shortly after the trial. The bad news was that it was going to be expensive. But Roxie wasn't too worried about that. She would just suck up to Amos for a bit and he would fork out. He always did whenever she wanted something, and this was something she wanted more than ever. And if that failed, there was always her earnings from the vaudeville. She had already paid Mama one hundred dollars for a phone call on her last visit to see if this lawyer Mama had mentioned would represent her. Apparently he was the best criminal lawyer in all of Illinois - he had never lost a case. She checked the name on the slip of paper - Billy Flynn._

_A few days later while overseeing the women back to their cells, Mama stopped Roxie. She had phoned Amos about the financial aspect, but he was out of town._

"_Mr Flynn is coming here the day after tomorrow," Mama told Roxie. "So Amos has arranged to have the cash over by tomorrow afternoon."_

_Roxie nodded distractedly, congratulating herself for winning over Amos again before returning to her own cell and, for the first time since she arrived at Cook County Jail, fell asleep easily._

_Early the next morning Roxie went to see Mama. Sure enough, Amos had been good as his word and Mama handed Roxie a thick envelope with'Mr. William Flynn' written on it. Walking away, Roxie looked inside it and gave a soft whistle. Five thousand dollars ... cash._

Velma looked half sarcastically and half curiously at Mama.

"Not many people got enough guts to stand up to the Roxie Harts of the world," Mama elaborated. "I'd like to help you, dearie."

Mama beckoned Velma towards an office. Velma entered and sat down in a chair in front of a desk. Mama casually lit a cigarette and leaned against the desk.

"So, kiddo, whatcha figure on usin' for grounds?"

Velma was taken aback by the question, but thought quickly.

"Well, this is the deal," she said. "I can't remember anything ... except that I didn't do it."

Velma raised an eyebrow at Mama, waiting for either approval or disapproval. Mama raised an eyebrow in return.

"Well, you're a good deal smarter than the rest of 'em," Mama snorted. "Tell the jury the truth, I'll say. They'd all've swung if I hadn't put 'em in line."

"And how does one get 'put in line' by Mama Morton?" Velma asked, wondering where this was going.

"One gets put in line by hiring Billy Flynn."

The name rang a bell in the back of Velma's mind somewhere, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

"Billy Flynn?"

"Only the best criminal lawyer in all of Illinois."

Comprehension dawned on Velma. Liz had told her how much she wanted to hire Billy Flynn, before setting off on a rant about how expensive he was. Most of the others wanted him as well, but she suspected only Roxie could afford him.

"And how do I get this Billy Flynn?"

Mama smiled deviously.

"OK, first you give me a hundred dollars. Then I make a phone call -"

"A hundred bucks for a phone call?!" Velma half-shouted.

"He's worth every cent. Ain't never lost a case for a female client yet."

Velma narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Never?"

"Never."

Reluctantly Velma grabbed a pen and piece of paper from the desk and wrote 'IOU $100'. Mama seized it, before looking at Velma amusedly.

"You get the phone call when I get the cash."

Velma rolled her eyes, got up and made for the door. Her head was spinning. She was pretty sure one phone call would lead to another, and another, and then there was the cost of Mr. Flynn himself. Velma cursed, knowing she didn't have that kind of money, and nobody to borrow from. Her savings wouldn't last long if Mama had anything to do with it.

A few days later, changing towels again, Velma saw Roxie leaving Mama's office, clutching a thick envelope. Still watching, Velma saw Roxie counting through a wad of bills ... a very large wad of bills. A thought came into Velma's head. At first she pushed it away. But later it came back, nagging and persistent. And finally, she decided to act on it.

That evening, she saw Roxie making her way back to her cell with the envelope hanging out of her back pocket. Velma shook her head in disbelief. _The stupid moron_, she thought. Casually, she bumped into Roxie, causing the envelope to fall from her pocket. Before Roxie noticed, Velma switched it with one she had labelled and stuffed with paper earlier. Smiling shiftily, Velma helf out the fake envelope and held it out to Roxie.

"Here. You dropped it."

Roxie looked at her in acknowledgement before accepting the envelope and entering her cell. Velma's heart was beating wildly with adrenaline. She tried to make her way back to her cell as casually as usual, but she couldn't help looking around quickly to make sure nobody was watching. Satisfied, she turned into her cell and fell asleep, assured everything would be alright. What she didn't know was that someone had seen it ... someone had seen everything.

_The next day, Roxie awoke, knowing it would be a good day. She picked up the envelope and felt the thick wad inside. She went down to breakfast, hoping that Billy Flynn wouldn't be late._

_She waited at the entrance to the jail, waiting for the famed lawyer to show up. Anxiously, she sat there for at least an hour, simply waiting. Finally, a well-dressed man entered the prison. She watched Mama greet him before eagerly trying to catch his attention._

"_Mr. Flynn!"_

_The man turned around and looked at her. An expression of recognition dawned on his face._

"_Roxie Hart, right? The cute one."_

_Roxie nodded in consent, pulling the envelope out of her back pocket._

"_Have you got the money?" asked Billy._

_Roxie nodded and handed him the envelope. Billy accepted it and tore it open. Roxie watched in confusion as anger appeared over Billy's face._

"_This your idea of a joke?" he asked irritably._

_Roxie gasped as he held up a fistful of folded sheets of plain paper. _Shit_, thought Roxie. In her mind there was no doubt what had happened. Her mind flew back to the night before ... Velma bumping into her, giving her an envelope ... She set her mouth in a firm line _You're gonna pay for this, Velma Kelly_, she thought. _You're gonna pay for this real bad.


	6. Positions of Power

Chicago Reverse

_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Chicago, okay?_

_Author's Note: Sorry, I haven't updated for AAAGES! (Damn writer's block …) Also, thanks to sweet775 for beta-ing!_

**Positions of Power**

Velma was on a devious high as she fingered the bills in her pocket. She sniggered, remembering the look on Roxie's face when she realized that all her money was gone. _Priceless_, she thought. She sauntered up the corridor, heading to Mama's office. Mama was inside, almost as if she had been expecting Velma's visit.

"Hello, dearie," Mama greeted her.

Velma said nothing, but simply pushed some bills across the desk. Mama picked them up, tucked them away and looked Velma straight in the eye.

"And where would you have happened across enough dough to reconsider?" Mama asked.

"An unexpected place," Velma replied nonchalantly.

Mama raised an eyebrow.

"Such as a certain somebody's pocket?"

The only physical reaction Velma gave as Mama's words sunk in was to blink in shock. _Composure_, Velma told herself. But her insides were reeling. She had no idea how Mama would react to a denial or an affirmation. Deciding that she had nothing to lose and that denial would be pointless if Mama had seen what happened the previous night, Velma looked at Mama with an air of self-assurance.

"And your point is?"

"My point is, kiddo, you gonna get yourself one hell of an enemy in Roxie Hart now," Mama chuckled. "If she ain't the most vindictive cow in Illinois, I'll be damned."

Velma rolled her eyes.

"And what's an air headed blonde going to do? Toss her hair at me?"

Mama leaned closer to Velma.

"Despite what you might think, there is something going on inside that pretty little head of hers."

"Do you speak from experience?"

Mama stood up, walked around the desk and put a hand on Velma's shoulder.

"Trust me, kiddo. She ain't above nothing."

_In her cell, Roxie was fuming. _The nerve of that Velma Kelly!_ she thought to herself. Incensed, she had sworn revenge. The only question now was what the revenge in question would be. It infuriated her that she couldn't think of a single thing. A tiny part of her was telling her to forget it and use her vaudeville savings earning to pay for her defence, but a much larger part shoved the thought away. Roxie Hart wanted revenge, and Roxie Hart was going to damn well get it … and the money back, too!_

_She was paying the Hunyak for doing her laundry when Velma walked by. The smug smile playing on Velma's lips drove Roxie crazy. How could she seem to control everything so effortlessly? She glared at Velma who leant towards her._

"_Welcome to the big, fat, ugly, real world," Velma whispered._

_It was all Roxie could do to restrain herself from slapping Velma across the face, but instead, she grabbed her wrist and looked her in the eye._

"_You ain't seen the half of it," Roxie whispered, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. If looks could kill, Velma would have been charged with murder … again._

_As she watched Velma's retreating back, Roxie prayed that she could live up to her word._

Velma walked away from Roxie a little confused. She had been surprised at the other woman's response. _The kid's tougher than I thought_, she grudgingly admitted to herself. Velma found herself wondering what Roxie had up her sleeve and whether it would have been worth it. But that thought was quickly shoved away. Velma had always wanted to the best, and now that is was within her grasp, she sure as hell wasn't going to let it go.

_Roxie woke the next day, still filled with maddening mental blanks as she tried to think of a suitable revenge. As the cells were unlocked and the murderesses filed out for breakfast, Roxie hung back. She wasn't hungry. Sneaking a glance as her enemy walked away unconcernedly, Roxie decided that a quick snoop might prove useful._

_She quietly peeked through the bars of Velma's cell, trying to find anything to inspire her. A quick scan proved useless so, disappointed, Roxie turned away. But then a breeze came through the prison and Roxie heard a rustling of paper. Turning back, she saw, hidden in the shadow of Velma's bed, a small notebook lying open. Curious, Roxie slid back the door and retrieved it. As she flicked through it, a small smile crept across her face. Pocketing Velma's diary, Roxie realised that the perfect revenge was staring her in the face._

_She sat down with Velma, Liz and June but didn't bother to get any food. Liz and June greeted her, but Velma simply shot her that smug smile that Roxie detested. She reminded herself that, in a few minutes, she would be wiping that smile off Velma's face._

"_So, Velma," Roxie said, offhandedly. "You never told us that you were in vaudeville."_

_Velma looked at Roxie, confused, but Liz and June seemed interested._

"_Really, Vel?" Liz asked. "Which club?"_

"_I –" Velma began, but Roxie cut her off._

"_Well, technically, she doesn't have a club. How many turned you down, Velma? Eight? Nine, was it?"_

_Roxie watched with satisfaction as Velma's face turned an incredible shade of crimson. Velma stood up and stormed away as Liz and June watched in confusion._

"_Roxie, what was that all about?" June asked._

_Roxie didn't hear her. She let Velma get halfway to the door before chasing her. As she reached the other woman, she tapped her on the shoulder. Velma turned around, furious._

"_And what was that you offered in exchange for an act? Desperate, aren't you?"_

_Velma turned purple as Roxie stood back, a smug smile playing on her lips._


End file.
